Chapter 4 #2
I hold my breath as I nod, keeping my eyes locked on hers.
And like I knew I would, I see her answer before she speaks.
My hands loosen on the steering wheel as she says, “I want to go with you… if that’s okay. I know you’ve already saved me by being there when I needed you. But, oh gosh, five hours, you say? Are you sure about that? That’s a bit—”
“I was planning on going there today anyway.” I nod to the back seat, where my small suitcase sits next to her weekender bag. “You’d just be tagging along. And you know I don’t mind your company.” In fact, I enjoy it more than I should.
I ignore the honks behind me as I hold up traffic. I’ll wait as long as I have to for her final answer.
The nod comes before she speaks, and I slowly move my foot off the brake. “All right, then. Looks like we’re going to the mountains.”
Daisy keeps saying that she isn’t hungry, but she’s bound to crash soon, and I’d prefer if it happened after she had a little food in her system.
We’re an hour outside of the city, and there are only gas stations and fast-food restaurants near our next exit. I decide to chance it and pull off the highway, hoping no one is loitering around the drive-thru and recognizes either of us.
“Why are we stopping?” she asks over the relentless buzzing of her phone.
It’s been going off nonstop since she gave Nick her approval to go ahead with the far too gracious statement.
The one announcing that his sister and Damien would not be getting married today and would appreciate if the media could respect everyone’s privacy during this time.
Surprisingly, Damien’s campaign has yet to put out a press release.
And none of the calls or messages blowing up her phone are from him either.
If I never heard his name again, it would be too soon, but for Daisy’s sake, I hoped he’d at least make contact to make sure she was okay.
I would move heaven and earth if I didn’t know the whereabouts of my fiancée, but then again, I pride myself on not having too much in common with the senator.
Unsurprisingly, it’s been her father doing most of the texting, and even though Daisy hasn’t opened any of the messages, per her brother’s advice, I could see a few of the previews when her phone sat in the console’s cupholder. Needless to say, none of those messages screamed “concerned father.”
She’s confided in me a few times about her strained relationship with her dad. I’ve always tried to be a listening ear so that she knows she can come to me about anything. But her father and Damien might be neck and neck at winning the asshole of the century award.
I reach back and pull out a Monarchs hoodie and place it on Daisy’s lap. “We’re grabbing food to go. Flip the hoodie so the team logo isn’t showing and drape it over yourself. I don’t want to chance anyone recognizing you.”
She chuckles. “Uh, hate to break it to you, but I’m not a major celebrity. Yeah, people may know of me in the city, but that’s mostly because of Nick.”
I do a shit job at suppressing my sigh as I pull into the lane with no line.
Her brows furrow. “I’m in denial, aren’t I? Leaving the future governor of New York won’t exactly go unnoticed, huh?” She chuckles dryly as she rubs her forehead.
“He doesn’t have my vote,” I mutter. “What are you in the mood for?” I nod toward the massive lit-up menu beside me, hoping to distract her from her thoughts.
She shrugs as she stares at her hands. “Not really hungry.”
Her eyes meet mine briefly, and it’s all the confirmation I need before turning to the intercom.
“I’ll have the number one with water.” I don’t need to scan the menu as I recite her usual order by heart.
“And I’d also like to add the crispy chicken with no lettuce.
Wedge fries and a large Coke. Oh, and the cookies and cream shake too, please.
” I drive forward before the total is repeated back to me.
With one quick look at Daisy, I know I’ve made the right move. The quiet glimmer in her eyes and the soft smile on her lips make me feel ten feet tall.
I pay, and we hop back on the highway without incident.
She polishes off every morsel of food.
The noise coming from her straw tells me that she’s also finished her dessert. But the satisfaction in my chest only multiplies when she makes a show of shutting off her phone and tossing it in the center console.
“I’m in the mood for murder,” she says as she picks up my phone, taps in my security code—the one she’s had for longer than I can recall—and chooses a true crime podcast. “Feels extra dangerous since I’m going to a house in the mountains with a white man in his thirties. I’m practically murder bait.”
I smile on the inside, because she sounds more like herself already. “It’s actually more like a cabin in the woods. We’re right on the lake but have views of the mountains, if that counts.”
“Even creepier. That’s perfect.” She grins as she presses Play on an episode and settles into her seat.
She’s asleep before we get to the first suspect. I pause where she left off so we can listen to it together when she wakes.
In silence, I let myself watch the only woman who has ever held my mind and heart captive sleeping peacefully next to me. And in that moment, I finally allow my thoughts to run wild.
She’s not marrying him.
And she never will.
Because she’s exactly where she needs to be.
Right here with me.